Burgundy
by ShinigamiForever
Summary: Uh, another one of my hit and run fics, where you have no clue what's going on. Anyway, only shounen-ai if you want it to be. It's about fire and and just plain confusion.


Burgundy

By: ShinigamiForever

A/N: Okay, there is no absolutely no reason, NONE WHATSOEVER, that this fic is called Burgundy. It just felt right, so here it is. This is a really strange fic, a mix of a doujinshi I saw called "And then there was Silence" and fic about fire. Must warn you, this fic rambles on and is strange enough that it bugs even me. Um, only shounen-ai if you want it to be, can be either from Relena's point of view, or Duo's point of view. I prefer Duo, but it's up to you. So, now, onto: Burgundy.

***

Once, bathed in the heat of destruction, I had kissed Heero.

He had been irresistible in the light of the inferno, the flames casting shadows across his set and determined face. Hard, like stone, and I wanted to taste what marble tasted like. It tasted like perfection. Like him.

Perfection. Kanpeki, in his words. [1]

He himself had been part of the flame and fire, silent eyes devouring the smoke and ruins of the base before him. He had stood apart from me, distancing himself with the flight of ammunition and explosions. As the sparks went up in the air, traveling with burning cinders on the smoking wind, I kissed him.

He had not resisted, he was compliant and unresponsive, and his eyes were still pinned to the red and orange. After I withdrew, he placed one hand on the small of my back and drew me close, rocking me back and forth, like a child that needed comforting.

It seemed, then, that he had gone temporarily insane, jolted by the destruction and my actions. His hands and arms were feather light, resting on my shoulder and another halfway around my waist. He had whispered nonsense words to himself, breathing in my ear.

I had not believed him accountable for his actions. He had a wild haunted look on his eyes, and he was haunted by flames and shadows on his face, the perfect flawless face, full of unkempt hair and untrained fear and unmasked anger. But his hands were light and gentle around my body. 

At the conclusion of our mission, I had kissed him.

I had forced him to look at himself through my mirror eyes, but he had executed a roundabout, pulling me close yet drawing me father away, abandoning me to my own senses as he was lost in his.

At the peak of the moment, I had kissed him.

He had trembled slightly, I had felt him, but even as he drew away, I could hear noises-sirens, mothers crying- ringing in my ear. They dragged me down to the depths of my guilt, rummaging in my stomach for some unspoken apology. The sound of crackling had invaded my ears, it exploded across my senses, the taste of blood and smoke, mixed in with the taste of leather and ammunition and sweat and purity. Purity, that was him.

Purity, white, it was pale and white with a twinge of metal and vanilla, blended with some indescribable smoke and salt sea air-were they tears?- mixed on his tongue. They swirled on my tongue.

My hands around his back as he unconsciously rocked me back and forth. A little beacon of bewilderment and lost emotions within a world so sure of themselves. And was that jasmine that lingered on my nose as I broke away first, longing and sweetness that is jasmine? 

I had closed my eyes and pressed my nose against his shirt, hard flesh bumping into hard flesh, and then I had drawn away, turning to the fire with empty violet eyes. They echoed the eddy of fire and smoke and black and red that the explosion was.

After the silence, we had left.

After the pause, I had promised myself never to do that again. Never to feel lost against somebody, drown in them as you drown in yourself, feeling that the swirling currents could loose you in the crux of their action.

But now, in the midst of the flames, I kiss him. 

I feel the need to find myself, the little half of myself I had lost in him, and he had looked at the fire with such a vulnerable and aimless look that I think he needed to find him in me.

He holds his hands on the side of his body, weightless hands that are broken glass now, delicate and afraid. 

This time, though, he responds.

He leans forward for a moment before backing up, a frightened gasp tearing away from his throat at the last moment, no longer muffled by my mouth. He grips my biceps, iron cold rings of metal, not warmed by the blaze of death and destruction they faced, the hands that killed people and drew back triggers and loaded guns and held me softly and pressed detonation buttons and ran themselves through his hair, they gripped my arms with a solid scared grasp.

He holds onto me like I am the last remaining stationary thing left on the planet and he needs something to hold onto. For a moment, we are caught as two shadows between the flames and fire of light, trails we have left behind, lighted worlds we have destroyed shine on this moment, illuminating the two people who are enveloped in themselves, lost in something that binds them to something else.

In the pinpoint of the climax, Heero kissed me, lashing out with ferocious anger and rage, boundless guilt and pain. 

At the culmination of the evening, I kissed him back.

The flames drew us close, circling us in slow circular paths, marking the destinies we have chosen.

At the cessation of the nightfall, we kissed and were kissed, loved and were loved, named and were named, lived and gave life.

In the brilliant flash of the present, we became unbroken within the walls that separate us, flesh walls and emotional walls, and give way to the inevitable, drawing the weakness and strength from each other.

In the moment within forever, I merely was, and I merely existed, he merely was, and he merely existed.

And the flames flashed brilliantly black and gray shadows across our faces.

**owari**

A/N: Uh… *chirp, chirp, cricket noises* Reviews? ::dodges flying fruit and vegetables::

[1] Kanpeki- perfect


End file.
